Page 60 of Necessary Roughness

Chapter Ten

One week later

TANNER REMEMBERED ATLANTA’S summer heat from his playing days as he parked his rental car in the team’s parking lot shortly before seven AM. Maybe it seemed so much hotter today because he’d usually worn a loose mesh jersey, football pants, socks, cleats, and pads for practice. He also had his helmet on most of the time, but he’d learned that dumping a bottle of cool water over his head before putting on the helmet was another good tip for staying cool. He wasn’t quite so comfortably dressed today.

He’d worn what he thought was a lightweight jacket, dress shirt, and cotton dress pants to his first day on the job as an assistant offensive line coach. He was already longing to pull his tie off so he could unbutton his collar. He’d have to get used to the humidity again. It was a big day in Seattle when the temp was over eighty. Atlanta was either sizzling hot outdoors or air-conditioned everywhere indoors. Heat or not, he wanted to make a good impression. He was surprised at how nervous he was too. He’d spent years showing up for practice. Being on the sidelines telling other players what to do was a whole new thing for him. The stretching and running wasn’t an issue. The strength and conditioning coaches would be handling that. He’d be expected to produce results with the four guys who were competing for his old job in training camp, and he’d better hit the ground running.

He felt the vibration of a new text on his phone and grabbed it out of his pocket.

You’ve got this. Have a great 1st day, Jordan had texted.

TY, he texted in response. I miss u. He slid his phone back into his pocket. He’d better move his ass or he was going to be late.

A few minutes later, he walked into a facility of men wearing the same comfortable-looking team logo short-sleeved polo shirts and cotton khakis.

“It’s the new guy,” Coach Peterson called out and crossed a huge lobby area to shake his hand. “You must not have gotten the memo about what we wear around here.” He gestured to Tanner’s tie and jacket.

“I’ll make sure to follow the guidelines in the future.”

“I like that answer.”

Tanner remembered that every first day he’d had in his life—public school, college, meeting the team that drafted him—was challenging. He’d expected nerves. Hell, he used to get so nervous before big games he’d throw up. He remembered every motivational speech he’d ever heard from coaches he’d had and imagined how they’d put a foot in his ass right now and tell him to man up.

He followed the herd of head coach, assistant coaches, their assistants, and administrative staff into the first meeting of the day.

The offensive coordinator approached Tanner and shook his hand. “I’m Steve. Good to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Tanner said.

Steve handed him a Surface tablet. “Here’s your playbook. You’ll need to learn it as soon as possible. We made some changes this past season.” He gestured toward a smaller knot of men sitting closer to the front of the room. “C’mon up and meet the OL group.”

Tanner’s day was meeting after meeting after meeting, with a quick lunch thrown in. Players had meetings too, but they broke things up a bit with practice, lifting, running, and visits with the training staff during the season for treatments. He’d get out on the field and work with the players when training camp started. He knew learning his new job was going to be like drinking out of a firehose, but he’d never been afraid of hard work. His nerves were gone. He was looking forward to the challenge.

The last meeting of the day ended as the sun was setting over Atlanta. One of the administrative staff stopped him on his way out the door and handed him a plastic bag with two team polos. “Welcome back to Atlanta,” she said. “See you tomorrow.”

***

TANNER DITCHED HIS jacket and tie about a minute after he walked into the fully furnished apartment he was staying in until he decided what he wanted to do about finding a house. He’d grabbed some takeout on the way home. He could study and get ready for tomorrow, but he wanted to talk with Jordan first. He glanced at his phone. She’d still be at work at six PM in Seattle. Maybe he should eat and get started on memorizing the playbook and try calling her in an hour or so.

He reread the text she’d sent him this morning. He missed her so much already. At least he’d talked her into staying at his place with Sadie. He knew Sadie probably missed him too, but it would have been worse to board her with a stranger. He cracked open a bottle of unsweetened iced tea, pulled the lid off the chicken stir-fry he’d brought home, and grabbed the plastic fork out of the bag as he propped the tablet up so he could read and eat at the same time. He was pretty sure every other guy he knew would call him p-whipped and worse, but he would do almost anything to see Jordan walk into his place right now.

An hour later, he’d eaten, reread the playbook until he was falling asleep on the kitchen table, and shut off the tablet for a few minutes. It was time to talk to his girl.

The call went to voice mail. She was probably stuck in traffic. He waited for the beep and said, “It’s me. I miss you. Call me when you get this.”

Maybe he should stretch out on the couch for a short nap. It was only ten. A few z’s would refresh him, and he could work for another hour or so. He awoke at six AM the next morning, still on the couch. The message light on his phone was blinking too. He’d been so wiped out he hadn’t heard it ring.

Hopefully he could FaceTime with her later today.

***

A WEEK PASSED faster than Tanner could have imagined. He was at the team facilities at least twelve hours a day. When meetings were over, he was watching film with some of the other assistant coaches and the offensive coordinator or reading and memorizing thousands of pages about team procedures and policies. He and Jordan were reduced to texting these days because he was up at three AM Seattle time each morning. The window where he was home and she was still awake was getting smaller and smaller.

He missed her. He could still see her smile and feel her gentle kisses. She didn’t cry when he left, but he wanted to. She took a picture of the signed sale agreement for the physical therapy clinic with her phone and sent it to him yesterday. It was official: she’d bought the place, and she couldn’t leave the Seattle area for the indefinite future. He couldn’t leave Atlanta, either. He stared at the video she’d sent of Sadie playing in the yard yesterday. He listened to her laughter as Sadie ran in circles around Jordan trying to get a Frisbee out of her hand.

He used to laugh at other guys who complained about missing their wives and girlfriends at training camp or on team road trips. He’d always looked at it as a break from whoever it was he was with at the time. It was a different story now. He also realized how dumb he’d been. He’d met a woman he wanted to spend every minute of every day with, and he’d decided on a job that would keep him away from her most of the year. He could have waited until he found a job with a team closer to home.

He was going to have to give some serious thought as to why he’d chosen to work for a team across the country from the reason his heart kept beating. Obviously, they offered. He’d thought it was an easy way to start what he imagined was his coaching career. He wasn’t a quitter, but he was going to have to figure out how he and Jordan could make sure they were in the same state.

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